


Double Date

by Muriel_Perun



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/M, Fluff, M/M, PWP, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-09 01:14:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4328187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muriel_Perun/pseuds/Muriel_Perun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Angel in Sunnydale, Wesley and Cordelia have the place to themselves, and after a few glasses of champagne things take a romantic turn. But Angel isn't far from their thoughts....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double Date

Cordelia looked perfectly happy reclining on the sofa in Angel’s apartment with a glass of champagne in one hand.

“I’m glad we decided not to go to the movies,” she said with a sigh. “I just couldn’t imagine seeing a movie about vampires. I mean, it’s all so phony, don’t you think? They never get the details right—all the garlic and bats and hypnotizing people with their eyes.” She opened her eyes wide, wiggled her fingers and pursed her lips, making a Twilight Zone sound. “You know?”

Wesley was glad they hadn’t gone to the movies, too.   Angel had driven the car to Sunnydale to check up on Buffy, so Wesley would have had to scrape together cab fare. The good news was that Angel wouldn’t be home until the next night, so Wesley and Cordelia wouldn’t be disturbed. This was the perfect opportunity—if Cordelia decided to stay. “They just don’t do their research,” he agreed.

“Research… Now there’s an idea!” Cordelia’s face lit up and Wesley wondered what she was about to suggest. “We could write a screenplay for our own vampire movie—get all the details, right, you know? And then… Oh, this is perfect!” She clasped her hands. “We could get Angel to star in it. Remember that agent who said he ought to be an actor? Well, that guy is dead, but maybe we can find another one. Anyway, we could get Angel to star in it. Of course, we’d only be able to film at night, but that would be authentic, right?” She glanced around at the apartment. “We’d have to change a few things. In the movie, the vampire couldn’t live in such a dump. Not that this place is so bad, but he could at least have cable and a decent sofa.”

Wesley let her go on, fascinated by her beauty. Since the first time he’d seen her when she was still in high school, he’d always thought how lovely she was. Of course, their first kiss had been a disaster, and that was his fault. Apparently, their second one hadn’t been so bad. He wasn’t sure what had changed. With his troubles with the Watchers’ Council, he hadn’t had time for much practice.

“And his wardrobe!” she was saying. “Don’t you think it would have to change? I mean, you know how to dress, Wesley. I’ve always noticed that about you. Maybe you could give Angel a few tips.”

Yes, oh, of course, he could just envision that. Angel would laugh in his face, and Wesley would feel even more irrelevant and moronic around him. Wes wondered if other people felt that way around Angel, too, as if he was always judging them and finding them inadequate. Of course, Angel had been through a lot. A hundred years in hell in payment for one night of love probably made a person just a bit impatient with people’s petty stupidities.

“I think he dresses appropriately for what he does,” Wesley said tactfully. “He has to wear black if he wants to sneak up on other vampires.”

“You can’t sneak up on a vampire—he can smell you.” Now Cordelia was treating him like an idiot. Of course, she even did it to Angel. “I just think all that black, and especially that leather coat, has to go. For one thing, it’s the wrong image for the firm. He looks like a criminal. And he never smiles. Well, not in a way that makes the clients feel better, anyway.”

“Don’t you think that most of them are satisfied with his services?” Wesley suddenly pictured Angel in his black clothes and leather jacket. He couldn’t imagine him wearing anything else, to be perfectly frank. For someone who professed not to care about his appearance, Angel was quite stunning. Wesley suddenly wondered if Angel’s hair grew.

“Does his hair grow?” Cordelia said, puzzled. “What does that have to do with changing his style?” Wesley realized that he must have spoken out loud. He did think that the mistress of the non sequitur might have cut him a bit more slack, especially after the amount of champagne they’d just consumed.

Considering how long he had dreamed of this night, Wesley was strangely distracted. He just couldn’t seem to keep his mind on Cordelia. It wasn’t her conversation particularly—he was used to that. Maybe it was the champagne. She was beautiful, she was desirable, but Angel’s presence seemed to hover about the apartment. Although Wesley knew Angel couldn’t possibly get back before the next night, he kept expecting to see his black-clad figure appear at any moment. And now that he was thinking about Angel’s wardrobe, he kept picturing Angel without it. The last time Angel had been wounded, Wes had pulled a bullet out of his shoulder. Even under the circumstances, Wesley had noticed how perfect Angel’s chest was, how smooth and unmarked even after all he’d been through, how his muscles rippled when he moved, and how magnificent he looked when he concentrated on resisting the pain. Wesley remembered, too, the night when he and Cordelia had seen Angel in the ring, first fighting for his life, and then refusing to fight, allowing a demon twice his size to toss his body against the walls.

“So that’s definite. We have to get him an undresser,” Cordelia was saying firmly.

“An ‘undresser’? Don’t you mean a ‘dresser’?

“That’s what I said, a ‘dresser.’” Cordelia shook her head and scrunched up her eyebrows in annoyance. “Wesley, you aren’t listening,” she said warningly.

The last thing he needed was to argue with her. “That’s because I’m thinking how gorgeous you are,” he said smoothly, taking off his glasses and moving swiftly to her side.

She looked at him and smiled, ready to be charmed. Wesley touched a fingertip to her chin and kissed her. They were in harmony this time and the kiss soon heated up and deepened. Wesley tried a bit of tongue and she responded immediately. Oh, he was more than glad Angel wouldn’t be home tonight. Angel, who was probably hiding somewhere watching over Buffy. How strange that he would go back to the woman who had cost him his soul. Of course it wasn’t her fault. But how intense that night must have been, that last night before a long trip to hell. Just thinking of it gave Wesley a thrill.

After one of his frequent showers, Angel was always wandering around the apartment in a towel when Cordelia wasn’t there. Wesley pictured him carefully—the strong arms, trim waist, well-shaped legs, and his ass… Well, Wesley had never actually seen it. Angel was so careful not to let anything show from under the towel, and if he knew how much Wesley wanted a look he’d probably become more careful than ever.

Wesley touched Cordelia’s breasts and she arched her back, sticking her hands inside his jacket and pushing it off him before beginning to unbutton his shirt. My, things were moving quickly tonight. He opened her blouse and discovered with relief that she wore a front-closing bra. Her breasts swung free, silky and firm, and he nuzzled his face between them, kissing and sucking.

The couch was getting a bit cramped now. How would he get her from the couch to the bed? He could imagine Angel making love to Buffy—he would just pick her up and stand in one smooth motion, so that she’d suddenly find herself on the bed. Caught up in the excitement of his vision and the exhilaration of Cordelia’s nakedness, Wesley embraced her and rose with her in his arms, carrying her to Angel’s bed. He had changed the sheets after Angel left, just in case she asked.

Impressed with his grace, Cordy embraced him more ardently. “Angel,” she murmured.

Wesley paused with his lips just above hers. “What did you say?”

“Oh, uh, I wondered if Angel would be home tonight,” she answered, her face flushed.

“No,” Wesley answered suggestively, “we have the whole night to ourselves.”

“Good,” she whispered and fell to kissing him again.

Oh, her lips were sweet, strong as a man’s, and Wesley had tasted men’s lips before. His chest was pressed against her breasts now, and he fumbled a bit with her skirt. She helped him and then started undoing his pants.

While Wesley’s body had found its own rhythm, Wesley’s mind was wandering. What if… what if Angel walked in while they were doing this in his bed? What if he watched them? What if he undressed and climbed in with them? Angel couldn’t do that, but if he could… If he could, Wesley would have tried to share this bed with him before.

Angel’s smooth chest, his ass, his thighs, his cock. He never undressed around Wesley, but Wesley undressed him now, piece by piece, imagining his own mouth and tongue lapping down Angel’s broad chest to his cock as now he licked down Cordelia’s flat stomach and wiggled his tongue between her labia.

She was wild, writhing against him so that he almost couldn’t keep his tongue on the little nub that was his target. She started to come and he stayed with her until she had finished and then slid gently up her body and entered her.

“So big,” she whispered.

Wesley was surprised. He was good-sized, nothing to be ashamed of, but not big enough to remark upon, either. One day recently he’d noticed a suggestively large prominence in Angel’s pants, though. The poor man must go around with a hard-on a good deal of the time. An erection he couldn’t touch… A large, unsatisfied erection, just waiting for Wesley’s mouth to engulf it…

Wesley nearly lost control and had to reach down and pinch himself discreetly, but Cordelia was in no condition to notice. She had come twice more and was heading for a third. He stayed with her, impressed with his own apparent skill. He wondered what she was thinking. Not that he had any right to wonder, the way he was thinking. Angel… Angel’s cock… Wesley touching it, freeing it, taking it in his mouth.

Cordelia pushed at his shoulder and he rolled over to let her be on top. His hands glided over the satin skin of her back and ass. She was lithe and graceful and sure of what she wanted from him. She seemed to have another orgasm. Wesley had lost count. This _was_ turning out splendidly. But think of poor Angel—he was probably watching Buffy right now, wishing he could be with her like this. But maybe it was all right for him to be with someone else. A man, for instance. _If Angel needed me… If he begged me to help him, to let him use me. If Angel were on top of me, pushing himself down my throat, moaning, out of control…_ Oh, God, it was too late now. And he crushed his mouth against Cordelia’s as in imagination he sucked desperately at Angel, and he came and came in a rush more satisfying than any orgasm he could remember.

He held her on his chest a moment and kissed her gently. He hoped he hadn’t come too soon, but she looked perfectly content. She rolled over to lie at his side.

“What did you say about Angel?” she sighed, stretching. “You know, a minute or two ago?”

Wesley had a flash of panic. _Oh, God, what did I say?_ “If I said anything it must have been ‘Cordelia,’” he said smoothly.

“I thought you said ‘Angel.’” She considered him a moment. “Are you sure you didn’t say it?”

Wesley’s brain felt very fuzzy. He rolled to his side and lay with an arm around her. “Yes, of course,” he said, hoping she’d give up on it, “I was just sighing because you felt so incredibly good.”

Cordelia turned and snuggled her back up against him as he drew her close. Things had turned out beautifully with Wesley, better than she had ever imagined. Could he have known what she was thinking? No, she hadn’t given anything away. Strange how he had seemed to echo her thoughts a moment ago. It must have been her imagination. Well, maybe now she’d gotten that fantasy out of her system. She sighed happily, smiled to herself, and closed her eyes.


End file.
